This week I chose one of my own photographs. I’ve struggled to put into words what I am feeling, but I can walk for peace. I can trace letters on a white board. I can be part of the change.
Whether you attended a march or not, I know your feelings run deep. Poets are like that. We feel things. We notice. We process. We write.
Take a minute, not too many, then pick up your pen and scribble 15 words or fewer, maybe more, in response to this photo. Go for your first thought. See where it takes you. Please do not leave without writing a few encouraging words to another writer. Thanks!
Before the storm, we listened to passionate words, a list of names, a prayer. Then we walked with each other.
I am hosting the Poetry Friday round-up today. Please join by placing your link using Inlinkz at the end of the page.
Today is the monthly gathering of Sunday Night Poetry Swaggers posts. This month Heidi Mordhorst challenged us to write a farewell letter to our students. We finished out the official school year 2 weeks ago, but truthfully, our school year ended on March 13th.
My emotions have been so torn by the pandemic and recent protests that I am unsure how I would talk to my students about it all. And then once again Naomi Shihab Nye’s Kindness crossed my path. That poem always moves me. “Before you know what kindness really is,/ you must lose things.” I decided to take a striking line for a golden shovel.
When I use another poet’s line to create a poem, I feel that poet is somehow writing alongside me. There is comfort in that. However, from the decision to write a golden shovel to the poem I am sharing, I’ve started and stopped many times. I am still not sure it’s what I want to say, but it’s getting there. I plan to mail both poems to my students as a way to say goodbye.
Dear students, we were together one day, then pandemic stay-at-home made it hard to know what is good and real and right. Our only idea of kindness included a drive-by party that makes sense, but may not comfort you anymore.
My only hope is you keep kindness in front of all that worries you. Focus on what ties you to others. Hold on to your ability to walk in someone else’s shoes and empathize with a character who sends you into their world. You can make a difference out of your choices. Lean into what you know is good. Be the best you can be every day.
…suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.
Romans 5: 4
This Biblical verse was quoted by the Episcopal Presiding Bishop Michael B. Curry in his sermon for Pentecost this past Sunday. I have read this verse before. And every time, I feel a bit of discomfort. There’s the part of me that wishes we could have hope without suffering and endurance.
This last week has been suffering for all of us. Watching a brutal, senseless murder at the hands (or knee, rather) of people we are supposed to trust is both heart and gut-wrenching.
In the Episcopal prayers of baptism, we state that we will respect the dignity of every human being. There are no exclusives to this phrase. Every means every, not the ones who look or act like us. God calls us to be a community of love. Where do we place hatred? In God’s world, hatred has no place.
This time I want more than hope for a better world. I want to take an active part in creating one. I started with conversation. When I was growing up in Jackson, MS, I went to a high school that was 90% black. We walked the halls together. We had lockers side by side. We sang together in the chorus. We worked together on the yearbook. But, never did I socialize outside of school with an African American classmate.
On Tuesday, I reached out to my friend who is the executive director of our church’s mission, Solomon House. We sat in the courtyard and talked for an hour or so. She offered many insights, but the thing I remember most is her admonishment, “I need my white friends to stop feeling guilty about being white.”
I will move beyond this guilt and do more than hope for a change. I will find ways to be a part of the solution. There will be a peaceful protest in New Iberia on Saturday. I’ll be there.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
There’s a part of me that is afraid to write. I’m afraid to get it wrong. But writing nothing doesn’t feel right, either. So, when I read the daily email from the New York Times, I found a poem of voices from the protestors.
In every city, there’s a George Floyd– my father, my brother, my cousin, my friend– I speak for everybody beaten up. If we don’t fight for change, we’re not going to get it. I took six rubber bullets, but no one kneeled on my neck. I came out peacefully to show my support, Yeah, it’s really like that.
Margaret Simon, found poem from New York Times June 2, 2020
I was at a loss for what I should write about today. Early this morning I read Linda Mitchell’s post in which she revisits her one little word for 2020. Ah, there is an idea I can embrace. Embrace is my 2020 word.
What I can embrace and celebrate is this amazing month of poetry of presence prompted by my interview at Today’s Little Ditty (See the wrap-up today.) Poetry friends old and new embraced the idea of writing a poem of presence every day in May. The Twitterverse has been happily inspiring and connecting us in a special, ever-present way. (#poemsofpresence)
I can embrace my baby grandsons. My school year has finished up, and my daughter from New Orleans needed help with her baby while she works, now from my home. We occasionally get the cousins together. They are not old enough to really engage with each other, but we are trying to nurture their relationship.
What I cannot embrace is the news of the world. I will not embrace racism and am sickened by the ways that it continues to mar our world. That’s all I’m going to say…
Last week April Halprin Wayland posted a new form: In One Word. Click the link to read the directions and her mentor poems. Here’s a draft using Wordmaker words from Embrace. The words I used are be, embrace, arm, mere, bee, me.
Shelter at Home
This time came to be eerily easy to embrace with one arm, a mere test of my resolve to stay here-present. Like a bee intent on nectar, I tend this place for you & me.
Margaret Simon, draft
Photo by Katherine Simon Andry at Petite Anse Farm, New Iberia, LA.
One more thing to embrace: the ingenuity of young people who create beauty out of a a field of dirt.
Photographs fascinate me. How a beam of light can change a perspective. How switching to black and white (which can now be done with a click of a button) can focus on a single aspect.
My friend and writing group partner, Molly Hogan, loves taking photos in the early morning. I love the morning, too, but in Maine, I imagine mornings are quite cold. Molly embraces the cold and manages to capture amazing detail in her photographs. She often posts photos on her blog and will write a poem to them. For a treat, click on over and scroll.
This week she posted this photo on Facebook. It’s dandelion season and for Molly, that means lots of photo study of the fascinating flower. In this photo, she took a close up of the dandelion with dew still present and shifted it to black and white. The effect is perfect for a poem or two.
Dandelion by Molly Hogan, used with permission.
We are all stardust making our way to sparkling.
Margaret Simon, draft
Leave your own small poem in the comments. Please respond to other writers. We are all in this together.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Taking a morning walk every day seems a mundane task. It’s exercise, yes, but so much more. Walking is my daily therapy.
This last week, I’ve been walking with a stroller. My daughter is home with her 8 month old while her husband works off-shore. She needs help with the baby while she works from home. We love having them here.
While walking, I stop to chat with neighbors. People are in less of a hurry, and it shows in the way we linger in the shade and talk about the weather, the baby’s eyes, or how we are faring in the pandemic.
While walking, I stop to check on my neighbor’s century plant, now in full bloom. This plant has been in the process of blooming for ten weeks. It has been a source of wonder and hope for all who have seen it. These plants bloom once in their lifetime. After blooming, it dies. I posted it in April for “This Photo wants to be a Poem.”
Century plant in full bloom.
While walking, I discover Sesame Street songs. When Thomas gets fussy, the best antidote is Elmo. I didn’t know how many popular musicians have done songs with Elmo, Dave Marshall, Beyonce, Ed Sheeran, Adam Sandler, and many more. Even after he’s asleep, I keep listening. The songs are uplifting and catchy.
While walking, I may catch a poem of presence.
Morning walk with stroller Elmo’s song La la la la’s him to sleep.
Margaret Simon, draft
There are some wonderful #poemsofpresence on Twitter. Consider joining us. What mundane task is keeping you going these days?
Poetry Friday round-up is with Carol at beyond Literacy Link.
I follow the Ethical ELA website that is beautifully led by Sarah Donovan. Each month she posts a 5 day Open Write which is a series of writing prompts hosted by teachers of writing. This month’s host was Kim Johnson. Kim drew mentor texts from great writers such as Jason Reynolds and Jericho Brown. I was drawn to a prompt from Jason Reynolds’ book Long Way Down, “The Way I Felt.”
It amazes me how a single prompt can turn out so many different individual responses. Go to the link to read the many touching responses. I am honored to be among them.
The Ultrasound
The way I felt when you showed me the ultrasound.
Never knew love like this.
I held the tiny image in the palm of my hand
cried
feeling a new world opening. I planted. I grew a fertile seed now planted in you.
Fingers, toes, a nose! Small person coming to be my grandchild.
My student Breighlynn in 4th grade was featured this week on Today’s Little Ditty. She took the ditty challenge to write a poem of presence. The Twitter hashtag continues. It’s not too late to jump in the fun!
This photo appeared on my Facebook feed from local artist and children’s book author Paul Schexnayder. Paul has an ironic sense of humor, especially in the everyday. His photo reflects that sense.
Mary’s Lizard by Paul Schexnayder
When I asked Paul if I could use this photo for a poem, he said, “I was hoping you’d ask? I almost asked you to write one!!!”
Please consider leaving your own small poem in the comments. Leave a comment for a few participants. Fun writing practice to wake up your creative self. No pressure. No judgement. Thanks for coming by.
A lonely lizard seeks shade in the arms of Mary. She stoically abides.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 